ℓєтнαℓ Levi x Reader
by McHeichou
Summary: This piece of fan-fiction features anorexia nervosa.


You stepped into your house, a feeling of comforting confidence embracing you like a friend who had been out of sight for years.  
No cruel people judging.

You had found your sanctuary. You glanced down, relief rushing over you like a tsunami as you saw the well-deserved thigh gap separating your legs, restricting them to touch each each other.  
Anxiety.

 _Struck in a vicious cycle of pounds, calories and inches._

 _Slowly falling into an isolation that could prove detrimental._

 _Deterioration of mind and body._

The fabric of your jeans was slipping by your hip bone and you felt like crying. You were failing again. Everything was so wrong. You weren't in control anymore, you couldn't halt the destruction which you had set into motion. Amidst your swimming confusion, a bland voice anchored you back. "(Name)?"

There he was, standing with all his healthy glory, Levi. Chiseled features, discombobulated attire.  
"Levi." The words flew out before you could contain them.

His gaze bore into your skull, voice riddled with accusation, "We are doing it, today."

You didn't know what silly emotion passed by your cheeks. Was it guilt? Embarrassment? Betrayal? Relief?

Green faced with envy, you cursed, resenting your feeble willpower and weakness. "What...?"

He let out a sigh, "I have arranged everything. Told your mother too."

Your body rebelled, a growl of hunger pang desperately knocking on the walls of your stomach to demand food. You felt the lingering tears unleash themselves, rolling slowly down your face with a disturbing warmth. You felt vulnerable and exposed.

"I want to help."

Your thoughts blurred together and danced about your brain jumbling the words sitting silently in your mouth.

"I-I don't...my d-doctor..."

"I have his approval too...but for only several weeks until your next appointment. It should be like a routine exercise," he spoke.

You stumbled forward and the young boy looked up, his cold argent eyes filling with worry. He couldn't see you wither, a prey to your trap, he wanted to help no matter how much time it took.

Emotions clashed together, blending together to form such a perplexing concentrated mixture that only triggered your anxiety.

You wanted to be free. Free from the chains of this disorder, binding you, eating away whatever was left of you. But the consequences of such freedom haunted you-flappy fat in thighs, bloated stomachs, no protruding hip-bone or collarbone.

 _Fat. Fat. Fat._

 _Wrong. Wrong. Wrong_ _._

 _Empty smiles. Blank-stamped eyes.  
_  
His hand brushed against yours, spiking your heartbeat. It was such an awful moment for romantic thoughts since you felt the thick burn of nausea build up inside you.

The tension, the nervousness, that strange blush,the jittery feeling in your stomach.

You gulped as he led you towards the kitchen, supporting your frail figure of bones and skin which pricked when you moved around. Your eyes darted around your own kitchen, scanning for calories. The table was full of food-yogurt, baby sausages, mixed fruit juice, orange juice and an omelet.

Your breathing started growing heavy, so heavy that you felt the Earth would swallow you as a whole . It felt right to do this but so wrong at the same time.

Levi's grip tightened on you. You felt _supported_.

"I will never _judge_ you, (Name). I'm with you. We can do this," he sparked optimism.

Pulling a chair, you helped yourself near the table. Your breathing shallowed suddenly. The food seemed less intimidating now that it was just in front of you. You were prepared. But the thought of managing them all became taxing.

Levi was watching you with calm and patient eyes.

 _No judging_ , he had said.

Beginning with the safest choice, you picked up a freshly sliced piece of fruit from the corner of the tray, simultaneously pushing the others at the back.

 _'80 calories_ ,' you began at the back of your mind. Chewing it slowly, you let your tongue taste the familiar sweetness of a watermelon.

You picked up some berries, their citrus already making your eye twitch.

 _Blueberries._

 _Strawberries._

 _Raspberry._

 _180 calories._

 _'No, no more.'_

 _'(Name), stop.'  
_  
You looked pleadingly at Levi whose expression did not flicker a beat.

Freedom cooed in your ears as you started to chug down the glass of fruit juice. Reaching for the next safe item, you dragged the cup of yogurt towards your chest.

Your heart thumped against your ribs as you stared down at the cup.

You took a spoonful in your mouth.

 _130 calories.  
_  
Another spoonful.

 _130 more_. The numbers kept adding up. Waves of guilt moved their fingers at you, their face displeased. Four scoops later, you felt the burden lighten up.  
"Very nice," Levi congratulated as he leaned forward, arms crossed over his chest. "How about some sausages now. Can you do that, (Name)?"

You were so ready to shake your head and shout out a 'no' but a look of warning shut you up. It sounded like a demand rather than a question from the lips of your friend. A good friend indeed.

"Yes," you answered. Anxiety diluted your determination as you picked up a rod of sausage. The smell of grease burnt your lungs. You shut your eyes, gathered every bit of courage from your soul and forced your lips apart.

Your teeth nipped on the bit which sat in your mouth. You waited and finally allowed it to slide down your throat. The whole sausage was gone in several minutes. _90 calories_. Now, two more to go.

Ten more minutes passed and the two remaining sausages dwindled into nothingness.

Omelette, _210 calories_. Gone.

You nudged the tray away, and forced your head to rest on your palms, elbows on top of the table. You inhaled the calorie-free air, cherishing it.

"Deep breaths," Levi said as he walked towards your form. You didn't know whether you should celebrate your victory or cry at the added calories which now rested inside you, raising their fat eyebrows at you. Levi placed his hand on your shoulder and you stiffened. You wanted to pound your fists on his chest for making you commit such a sin-like thing. But your conscience wanted to hug him.

You tilted your head upwards to look at him. His head was tipped down, ink- black tresses leaning away from his face, a faint smile sitting on his lips. "Good job. You want to do it again tomorrow?" his voice held a soft timbre which drove away your uncertainty and heightened your scattered optimism.

"Yes."


End file.
